of your sex.

    Yet to be ac laugh—by a marriage?

    to be acain unusual conditions. Again  last t  squeamis about t, as anot be? I suppose your maid is really sleeping, and not listening at the door?

    I t say notch.

    God en.

    to bring a girl to Briar, from London, and install o use   of t over-scrupulous, not too clever in  sune—Say, t believe sion to ask for more.  are a small set, as crooks go; ter all: for o wever s see a s. She will

    suppose me an innocent, and believe ing in my seduction. S, into marriage o a—ates, before admitting t, take my place. Sest— as a form of lunacy; and so keep he closer.

    And ory as your moter, your uncles niece— in s, all t marks you as yourself. t! t of your life, as a servant  free your cloak; and you so any part of to any neo suit your fancy.

    ty—ter liberty—o Briar to offer. For payment s my trust, my promise, my future silence; and one une.

    not speaking, my face turned from  a minute.  I say at last is:

    e s.

    once: I think we will.

    t us.

    Sracted by t into ructions ss to find t you, , in ?

    And  they look for her?

    ted and robbed t her.

    Forget her?

    of mot. Sime. I dont trouble very  she

    turned out sion  to be cared for, like  ones. c her.

    I gaze away from him. A madhouse . . .

    I am sorry for t,  your oation— your oation— as our crooked girls  see  , all to profit by it, once; t, for ever.

    I still look a afr